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Published by Abhay Vohra

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Published by: Abhay Vohra on May 06, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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08/17/2013

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0
First Draft
Seventeen Minutes
 by
Jason Sackett
 
0
SEVENTEEN MINUTES
Darkness:.
A SOUND slowly builds: the rhythmic rocking of aTRAIN'S
 
WHEELS over RAILROAD TRACKS...
INT. HIGH SPEED TRAIN - MORNING
COLTER jolts awake. Sunlight hits his face.
He blinks. A stunned beat. He's disoriented.
 
Slowly he turns his head to one side...
PASSENGERS. Filling most of the seats. Office workers on
their morning commute into a city.
Turning the other way, he's confronted with a window. Trees
flash by, splitting the rising sunlight into a hypnotic
strobe pattern.
Colter looks to be thirty years old. A military buzz cut. A
 
disciplined physique, lean and spare, almost gaunt. Skin
 
 burnished by years of desert sandstorms and equatorial sun.
 
His expression, prematurely aged by combat, is perpetually
 
wary, sometimes predatory, accustomed to trouble.
Despite his military bearing, Colter wears a button down
shirt and navy sports coat. On his wrist is a digital watch.
It reads
 
7:40
 
a.m.
He swallows. A strange, creeping panic.
He has no idea where he is.
EXT. NEW JERSEY COUNTRYSIDE
 
- MORNING
The train hurls straight at us.
 NEW ANGLE -- Skimming alongside as the train twists and
 
turns, sucking up track 
 
-- feet, yards, miles of it.
Beneath it, the curving rails, which the rushing train barely
 
seems to touch. They vibrate with an eerie, dulcimer HUM.
 
2.
INT. TRAIN
 
-- MORNING
Colter hasn't moved. By his side he sees a canvas MESSENGER 
 BAG..
Is that his?
Tentatively, he lifts the edge of the bag to look inside.
A
red APPLE rolls against two LIBRARY BOOKS. The bag'sleather 
 
 NAME TAG reads: "SEAN FENTRESS."
It's not coming back to him. This whole experience is
 
starting to freak him out.
He catches the scent of something. A passenger walks by with
 
a STEAMING CUP OF COFFEE.
CHK--THOCK!
Two rows back, an OVERWEIGHT MAN opens a can of 
soda.
Sitting opposite Colter, facing him, is a WOMAN in her late
twenties
(CHRISTINA). In contrast to the corporate suits
around. her, her appearance is thrift store funky: black nail
 
 polish, dark lipstick, black hair with blue streaks, a button-
down blouse edged in black funeral lace with silver skull-and-
 bones cufflinks. She's busy writing in a journal.
COLTER 
Ma'am?
 Nothing.
COLTER 
Excuse me... ma'am?
She looks up. Blank stare.
COLTER 
What is this?
CHRISTINA
What's what?
COLTER 
Where am I?
CHRISTINA
(looks out the window)
Almost at Newark.
Goes back to her journal.
COLTER 
What's Newark? A city?

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